


Glory Hole

by von_gelmini



Series: Kinktober2019 [8]
Category: Iron Man (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, Spider-Man (Tom Holland Movies)
Genre: College Student Peter Parker, Face-Fucking, Glory Hole, M/M, Mistaken Identity, Oral Sex, Rough Oral Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-26
Updated: 2019-10-26
Packaged: 2021-01-03 12:04:51
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,261
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21179129
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/von_gelmini/pseuds/von_gelmini
Summary: “What does it take a guy to just suck a little dick around here?”





	Glory Hole

**Author's Note:**

> This is one of my leftover pieces from Kinktober 2019. I'll never finish the challenge because I got sick and missed 2 weeks of it. But I have a couple of pieces that I started before then, so I'll be posting them to the collection even if it's after October. They were started in October, so it counts.
> 
> This was supposed to be Day 11: <s>Formal Wear | ABDL/Ageplay | Oviposition </s>| Glory Hole

Peter wasn’t ready to be out to anyone yet. Not that he was ashamed of being gay. He was very comfortable with it. It’s just being out brought with it a whole set of questions he really didn’t want to deal with. He definitely didn’t want to deal with what he expected would be May’s enthusiastic over-acceptance and wanting to make it all about how tolerant she was. 

He didn’t want to be out at school because he thought the campus LGBTwhatever group was a bunch of lunatics left running the asylum. The few members he talked to, while not outing himself, made it very clear what they thought of cis, white, gay men. There was no place in the “queer rainbow coalition” for them. He’d already dealt with hiding from your garden variety homophobia in high school, this new brand of it under a different name was no more appealing than the last. He decided that he’d come out when he was done with school entirely. When he was working. Because that was likely going to be at Stark Industries, which was a perfectly reasonable firm with reasonable policies that didn’t make a big deal of it one way or the other. 

He’d often talked to Mister Stark about it. In the hypothetical sense, of course. The man made it clear that he intended LGBT people to be treated in exactly the same way as anyone else. No pimping to show the company’s bona fides for Pride Month. No “ask me about my gender” pins. Just a plain and simple, if you’re smart enough to cut it then you’re here, policy regarding anyone in the spectrum. Peter had long heard rumors that Mister Stark was bi, but he was surprised when the man volunteered the information. 

“It’s not a big deal. Girl ass, boy ass, they’re all hot. Like I’m gonna deny myself 50% of the population?”

“But you don’t…”

“What? Make a thing out of it? Tell anyone? It’s nobody’s business. I’m not going to be someone’s political poster. I fuck who I want to fuck. I’ve never denied it.”

“But the girls…”

“Look, I’ve never been in charge of my image. Never. Other people crafted that for me. I don’t give a damn about it. When I get caught with a girl, other people plaster it on the front page. When I get caught with a boy, other people cover it up. Do I play to that? Sure. It’s the business. It’s not who I am. Since I’ve been in charge of the company, I’ve made sure our hiring policy is completely without prejudice. Best man or woman for the job, whether that’s gay, bi, trans, or straight. Isn’t that what we should be going for?”

Peter had to agree, even if that put him at odds with 9/10ths of the community on campus. So Peter didn’t come out. Which left him more than a little frustrated. Sexually. He had a decent enough fake ID, so he could get into clubs if he wanted to, but that was risky. Even if he went somewhere far away from campus, it didn’t matter. He was in the freakin’ Bronx when he saw someone from his advanced calc course and had to beat a hasty retreat out the back. 

“What does it take a guy to just suck a little dick around here?” Peter groaned leaning against the brick wall beside the door. 

A man who was leaning on the opposite side of the door taking a smoke break chuckled. He handed Peter a card. “Try this place kid.”

“Thanks, I just ran into someone from school and I really don’t want to do that again.”

“You won’t run into anyone there. Try it. If you’re just looking to ‘suck a little dick around here’,” the guy said, quoting him back at himself.

That’s how Peter found his perfect Friday and Saturday night home at the address on the card. The place was right off the gayborhood, but rarely frequented by either the trendy or the college sets. It was dark and seedy. A long narrow room divided in two by a wall. The place was technically a private club, but the nightly membership dues varied according to which side of the wall you were putting yourself on. A token dollar for one, fifty for the other. Even at fifty dollars, that side of the wall was never not crowded. The other side, no matter how low the fee was, could always use a few more volunteers. Since Peter was only interested in the cheap side, he was a welcome addition. 

He liked being about eighth in from the door. Not too close to be taking whatever walked in, but not too far down not to get traffic. There was a nice padded low step on his side of the wall. Easy on the knees. The opening was a vertical slit, not a hole like the name indicated. The slit accommodated men of varying heights. Peter paid his one dollar, got his membership club card punched, and made his way to the spot he liked best. He set his packet of wet wipes on the step beside him after using one to wipe around the opening. Condoms weren’t required and things got messy, even though the establishment liked to try to keep it clean throughout the night. 

“Who’s here tonight,” a man’s voice asked as he stepped up to the hole in front of Peter’s face. It was supposed to be anonymous, but pseuds were used and the regulars came to recognize each other.

“Pete.” Okay, so his pseud was lame and was his own name.

“Hey Pete. It’s Jeremy.”

“I know what you like baby,” Peter said, low and breathy. Jeremy liked it when Peter took his time and did all the work. Peter liked Jeremy because he had a decent enough cock and he let him indulge himself. It was a mutual enjoyment. He could spend a half hour easy sucking off whoever ‘Jeremy’ was. And it always left him hard.

Not enough to come, though. As much as he enjoyed the slow and indulgent, it took something else to bring him off.

“Number eight on a Friday night. Is that you Petey-pie?”

The man’s voice was smooth. It seemed almost familiar but the way he pitched it, that low bedroom tone, was a familiar style a lot of the older men tried to use. 

“None other, Daddy.” 

The man never gave a pseud but the first time Peter called him Daddy, noting the silver in what hair he could see, the man nearly came just from that. Daddy liked it rough. He’d been heard telling the establishment that they should cut number eight into a cross shaped hole so he could get his hands in there and fuck the boy’s face properly. His suggestion was always denied. So Peter learned how to give the man what he wanted by doing it from his end. Taking him hard and fast and deep, forcing himself to gag and pushing himself to his absolute limits. 

Daddy had a big thick cock. If Peter hadn’t been coming to this place for months, he never would’ve been able to take Daddy’s cock. Even so, it was work. Forcing himself, listening to Daddy’s low, deep appreciative groans, was almost always guaranteed to get him off with only the barest touches to his cock. He imagined that if Daddy had him the way said he wanted to, Peter would come completely untouched, just from sucking the guy off. The number of times he wanted to pass his phone number through the slit after they were finished was dangerous.

His Friday and Saturday nights were accounted for. Monday through Thursday, however, he went to Stark Tower. His internship was long over, but Mister Stark agreed to let him keep helping in the workshop. He’d even arranged for him to get one credit hour per semester as a lab course, so long as Peter kept a record book for his teacher. 

“My dad always said the difference between science and fucking around was writing it down,” Mister Stark joked.

Admittedly a lot of what they did in the workshop didn’t qualify as either science or fucking around. Mister Stark had bought another car. It was a wreck, but he was sure he could bring it back to pristine condition. There was a lot of body work to be done and Peter had no idea how to do that. He really had very little idea about what to do with any part of a car, but Mister Stark was insistent that it was a necessary part of mechanical engineering, which was a course Peter was taking that semester. So they worked on a beat up old Plymouth every afternoon. 

Peter was taking apart the intake manifold and trying,  _ trying _ ,  _ TRYING _ , not to notice how Mister Stark’s arm muscles looked in his black tank top, covered in sweat, as he beat out the rear quarter panel. He was failing miserably and was thankful he still wore baggy clothes. He’d dropped a tiny bolt and was attempting to fish it out with his first and second fingers pinching together like a pair of tweezers in the tight space it had wedged itself into.

“Hand me that clamp, Petey-pie.”

“Yes Daddy.” Peter closed his fingers around the part and started to pull it out when… “Oh fuck.” He looked over his shoulder at an equally shocked expression on Mister Stark’s face.

Tony stared at Peter. “You’re…”

There were two ways this could go. Peter turned to face Mister Stark and smiled. “Yes, Daddy.” He slid off his seat and fell to his knees. He looked straight at Tony and let his mouth go slack.

“Peter, are you sure you want this out here?”

He smiled. “I want what you haven’t been able to give me, Daddy. I want what you’ve been saying you want to do to me.” Peter lowered his gaze, embarrassed. “And I want it to be you who does it, Mister Stark.” He raised his eyes again to look at Tony.

“You sure? You’re going to have to give up going to that place if you’re with me.”

“I’m sure. I won’t need to go there if I’m with you. As long as you give it up too.”

Tony walked across the workshop and stood in front of Peter. He ran his dirty fingers through the boy’s hair and pulled his head back. “Petey-pie, once I found you, yours was the only mouth I ever went to. I won’t be missing a thing.” He unbuttoned his jeans and pushed them down. “Go on, baby boy. Get me hard so I can finally fuck that pretty face.”

Peter took Tony’s hips in his hands and looked up at the man as he pulled him closer. “Yes Daddy,” was the last thing he said before closing his lips around the head of Tony’s cock. ‘Daddy’ was always hard when he stepped up to the glory hole for ‘Petey-pie’ to take care of. Getting to feel Tony like this, tumescent and heavy on his tongue, responding to Peter’s mouth doing nothing but gently, steadily sucking him made Peter groan and his hips writhe.

“Go on, baby. Take your cock out. I loved listening to you come as you choked yourself on my cock. Such a needy little thing. All those cocks you sucked and none of them but mine could make you come. Isn’t that right, Peter?”

He sucked intently back up the man’s hard shaft and pulled off. “Yes, Mister Stark. They’d get me hot, but none of them could make me come.” Peter looked up. “I like it rough.”

“Never would’ve guessed,” Tony said smirking. He rubbed the head of his cock against Peter’s lips. The boy opened and Tony pushed in hard and fast until he felt himself hit the back of Peter’s mouth. He tightened his grip on the hair on top of Peter’s head, pulled him off and then pulled him back down again, always stopping just at the point he felt the tightness of Peter trying to swallow him farther down. “You don’t get to play with me anymore, little boy. I take what I want, exactly what I want, and I take it when I want it.” He ran the thumb of his other hand over the corner of Peter’s mouth, feeling its stretch. When he pulled off again, he slid two of his fingers in beside his cock when he thrust in.

Peter’s mouth was open impossibly wide. It ached. It hurt. Instinctively, he gulped, which made Tony moan as his tongue pressed up against him. Peter’s cock jumped and dripped precome at the sound.

“You can take it, Petey-pie. I’ve felt you open this mouth wider when you’re gagging around the base of my cock. Oh what? You’re waiting for me to pull out? Not gonna happen, baby. You can breathe just fine like this. So just keep working that hot wet mouth around me until it hurts. No getting lazy. You’re gonna do what I want, aren’t you Peter.”

It brought tears to his eyes that usually didn’t come until much later on when he had Tony’s cock all the way down his throat. It hurt when he tried to swallow around both the cock and the fingers in his mouth. It hurt worse when he forced himself to use what little space there was to work his tongue along the underside of Tony’s cock. It hurt. And his cock throbbed more the more it hurt.

“There’s my baby’s tears. I always wondered if you were crying back there,” Tony said as he finally pulled back and took his fingers away. “Pretty tears but look at that cock of yours. Slutty little boy, you can’t get enough of Daddy’s cock, can you?” Tony left Peter no time to answer before he pushed in again, breaching Peter’s throat with the head of his cock.

Peter had absolutely no control over what Tony was doing. The man moved his head how and where and when he wanted him. He knew that ‘Daddy’ said he wanted to be rougher. He’d growl out the things he wanted to do if only there wasn’t a wall between them. But then a lot of men said things like that and Peter knew they were all talk. He figured ‘Daddy’, Tony, might’ve been a little more real, but nothing like this. His talk was only the  _ start  _ of the things he was doing. He was rough. Right there on the edge of too rough. And Peter wanted Tony to push him over the edge. 

“Relax your throat, Petey-pie. I know you know how to not fight me when you’re giving it, but you’re going to learn how to not fight me when I’m taking it.”

Peter tried. It didn’t help him from gagging and sputtering when Tony thrust in. He had no control over what the man was doing so it was hard to keep his throat ready for the intrusion. He looked up and saw Tony looking down at him, wearing a smirk that said he had Peter exactly where he wanted him. But there was also a dark, possessive desire that said it was very specifically Peter who he wanted there. 

Tony pushed in hard again. “That’s it, Peter,” he said, his voice more gentle than his actions. “I know what you need and I’m gonna take it from you. Give yourself to me, baby.”

Peter let his entire body go lax, held up only by his grip on Tony’s hips and the man’s hands as they moved to either side of his head. He stopped trying to suck cock and instead let Tony use his throat to fuck himself with. His face was streaked with tears, his chin dripped drool onto his shirt. He was a mess and it was everything he ever wanted. He was so far gone that he scarcely felt himself come. The pleasure of it simply added to the pleasure of everything else. He gave his orgasm, entirely, passively, to Tony.

Tony set up a stuttering rhythm, just enough off of steady to keep the boy from knowing what was coming next. He let Peter up for breath when he decided to. He forced himself down the boy’s throat when he wanted to. Peter’s complete and utter surrender was a drug like nothing Tony’d ever felt before. He’d fucked boys’ faces before, but they struggled, they fought, they tried to control. Not one of them ever gave themselves to him the way Peter was doing. It was maddening. The more Peter gave, the more Tony wanted to take. He wanted to last longer, he really did. But the way Peter’s throat felt, hot and wet and open, was beyond his ability to resist. And Peter’s eyes, looking up at him through tears, full of… god… full of things that were frightening in the intensity they brought out in Tony. It was Peter’s eyes that undid him.

Tony pulled out until he was only just filling Peter’s mouth. His throat was raw and his jaw ached. When he tasted the first spurts of Tony’s come on his tongue, he tried to suck and swallow. His mouth was so sore he couldn’t properly do either and Tony’s come was added to the mess that had been made of his face.

Dropping to his knees and sitting cross legged on the floor, Tony pulled Peter into his lap. He wrapped the boy tightly in his arms. He softly ran his fingers through his hair, gentling Peter’s scalp from where he’d pulled his hair. He kissed the tears from the corner of Peter’s eye. Then holding him tighter still, he kissed Peter on his lips. He meant to be soft, he meant to be gentle. He knew the boy’s mouth hurt. He’d made it hurt. But when he tasted himself on Peter’s soft, swollen lips, he found he wasn’t done taking yet. 

When finally he broke the kiss, he brought Peter’s head against his chest. He couldn’t let go of the boy. “Baby, baby, baby,” he whispered almost worshipfully into Peter’s sweat soaked curls, rocking them together. He felt the boy shaking against him. He rubbed gentle circles into his back as he pressed light kisses to his cheek. “You…” Tony was at a loss for words. How could he explain what it meant the way Peter gave himself to him? He should probably apologize for how rough he’d been, but he was sitting in a puddle of evidence of how much Peter liked it. 

“Tony,” Peter sighed. He leaned back just enough to see Tony’s face. A small, contented smile surrounded another sigh. It was the first time Peter had used the man’s name.

Tony brushed the hair back from the boy’s forehead. “Peter.”

Peter wrapped his arms around Tony’s chest and, okay, well, maybe used his shirt to clean his face a little, which made him smile at how silly that was. 

“You okay, Peter?” Tony asked after a while.

“Very.” He finally let go and sat more normally in Tony’s lap.

“What are the odds?” Tony shook his head.

“Pretty good actually. It’s not that surprising.”

“Yeah well it is to me. I don’t know why I didn’t recognize your voice.”

“Same reason I didn’t recognize yours. The odds weren’t bad; they were just unbelievable,” Peter said, smiling up at Tony.

**Author's Note:**

> My Starker blog on tumblr is [starker-stories](https://starker-stories.tumblr.com/).  
Come on by and visit.


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